


familliar

by shogo



Series: arcadia [2]
Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fix-It, M/M, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-12 23:44:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11172576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shogo/pseuds/shogo
Summary: stories don't always have their endings written for them





	familliar

Kogami exhales, watching the smoke curl up into the air from the end of his cigarette and disappear into the darkened night sky. 

Everything in the world seemed impossibly serene at that moment. Like somebody had pulled the pages from an illustrated novel and held them up as the landscape ahead. The smog was less visible in dull light, and due to curfew it was nearly silent.

Kogami takes another drag and tries to let his mind wander away from that particular topic. It never did to think of things like that, they only ever served to upset him. 

It was rare to have these moments by himself. His attention was almost always completely occupied by Makishima, and it was a singularly unique thing to not be in the same space as him. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the other mans company on a strange, surreal level— it was nothing more than the offhand realization that he’d suddenly notice that he was by himself.

They were so alike in so many ways that it wasn’t at all a strange thing to be in his company at nearly all times. It was much like the same way that you’d never think about being separated from yourself into two separate beings.

Kogami sighed and let his head fall back against the concrete wall behind him. That was getting into another territory he didn’t like to think about much. Both in the spirituality sense that he’d never quite bought into as well as the sometimes palpable connection that existed between himself and Makishima. 

He was perched sideways on the balcony outside the flat they’d taken up temporary residence in. He was no longer completely sure _where_ exactly they were, but somehow knew that they were somewhere between Japan and the SEAun. Given that he really had no direction at the moment in regards of where to go next, Kogami assumed that this was okay for now. 

He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and noted with dull interest the way the amber ashes flickered off the balcony and disappeared from view as they snuffed out. He grinds the remaining stub into the roughened concrete before pulling out another one and quickly igniting the end in one smooth motion.

Moments seemed to pass much slower than moments do, stretching out into a small taste of eternity with only the burning cigarette in his hand seeming to prove any passing of time at all. 

It’s only when Kogami feels the distinctly prickling feel on eyes on him that he spares a glance towards the doorway, not at all surprised with what— or _who—_ he sees standing there. 

Makishima has his arms crossed tightly to his chest and something warm and woolen looking draped over those thin shoulders. He’s leaning up against the doorframe with a neutral expression on his face and watchful golden eyes trained on Kogami. He looks no more concerned than Kogami at being up and outside out past this country’s curfew, but than again, they’re the two people who’ve broken nearly every law their last country had. 

Kogami turns back to look over the cityscape in silent admission, letting his legs drop on either side of the ledge to allow for some room in the tiny space. Makishima moves as silently as he ever does, coming up to stand close enough to Kogami that he can smell the various herbs and spices that had been in that tea the albino likes so much. It’s a strangely domestic thing, especially considering both their volatile past as well as the imminent danger of penalty they both face for breaking curfew. 

“I thought maybe you’d fallen off.” Makishima eventually says, voice soft.

Kogami snorts and takes a drag. “Not yet.”

Makishima’s lips twitch upwards but he doesn’t say anything more. His eyes are fixed on the city below and Kogami wishes for the millionth time that he was a psychic.

“Would you be sad?” Kogami asks him. Makishima’s eyes slide over to him as he tilts his head in questioning. “If I fell off this balcony, right now.”

Makishima’s silent for a beat, eyes narrowing slightly before relaxing. It was a test, he was thinking. Or at least, that’s what Kogami read of it.

“Sad? No, I don’t think so.” He sighs and looks away again. “Disgruntled? Yes, definitely. Surprised? Surely, if you’d been idiotic enough to fall in the first place.”

Kogami snorts again, a smile pulling at his lips. “At least you’re honest.”

“Mm.”

Silence lapses around them again, as comfortable and as enveloping as if you were alone with yourself. Eventually Kogami reaches out the hand with the cigarette in offering. Makishima glances at it, hesitates, then accepts. 

Kogami always finds some sort of sick satisfaction with watching Makishima smoke. Maybe it’s the way that such an angelic looking person seems smoking something that’s known for the illness it brings, or maybe it’s the almost delicate way Makishima does it, in that graceful, oiled way he does everything.

Maybe it’s that sick part of him that gets off on watching things being corrupted, knowing that it’s him who’s the enabler and Makishima, the person who seems so unscathed despite all of his evils, who’s the partaker.

Makishima exhales in a way that sounds like another sigh and Kogami watches with fascination the way the smoke curls form his lips.

“Did you want me to say that I’d be sad?” He asks, and Kogami nearly doesn’t hear him. He pauses, a million things running through his head before settling on the truth. It wouldn’t do to lie anyway, not when they knew each other well enough to spot a falsity.

“No.” Kogami responds. “I would’ve known you were lying.”

He can feel Makishima’s eyes turn back to him, that same blank, schooled expression on his face. He continues, “You’d be pleased as well, I know you would. If I were to just drop dead.”

Makishima’s lip twitches, and Kogami can see the way his eyes steel over in something akin to irritation. That’s why he said it after all, to try and provoke a reaction. Makishima seemed to know that as well, know that Kogami wanted to hear something in particular form him.

Makishima took a final drag before holding out the cigarette for Kogami to take back. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

Makishima’s jaw ticks almost unpercebtibly, but just enough for Kogami to catch it. “We seem to feel very differently about each other.” 

He’s wrong. They both know it. Kogami doesn’t say this. “How do you feel about me?”

Makishima huffs softly. “I don’t know.”

Kogami didn’t doubt that. Makishima couldn’t comprehend things as fragile as emotions, could read them on others nearly flawlessly but for himself… Kogami still wasn’t sure if Makishima was even capable of emotions. Another mystery to figure out concerning the other man.

“You don’t know or you don’t want to say?”

Silence. Then, “Both.”

Kogami takes a slow pull from the cigarette and considers this. It was rare that Makishima said or did something that he couldn’t place as a truth or as a lie. 

A siren sounds off in the distance and they both turn to look down at the city. They’d be leaving tomorrow, moving on to the place on the map. Everything was packed away and wiped down in the flat. There was no indication that anybody had ever been there at all, let alone two runaway fugitives from a few countries over. 

“I would’ve shot you.” Kogami suddenly says, “If you’d turned around.”

Makishima’s looking at him now, and even without turning Kogami can imagine the surprise and curiosity lighting up those pale features. 

Kogami didn’t like to think about that day; didn’t even like to think about the events leading up to that day. He especially didn't talk about it, not even when Makishima had brought it up countless times while insisting on an answer as to _why_ Kogami had chosen to keep him alive and as a captive. 

“Why is that?” Makishima asks him curiously, as if he’s asking about the previous days activities rather than something that had almost been his demise.

Kogami shrugs, takes another drag, and passes it back to Makishima, who’s now leaning close enough to him that he can feel the warmth of the other man’s body. “I ask myself that almost every day.”

Makishima’s quiet for a moment, then, “Have you ever heard the story of Lot and his wife?”

“The proverb you mean? I’m not following what you’re getting at.”

Makishima nods, a smile curling on his lips. “God told Lot’s wife not to look back at the fallen cities lest she be struck down by the angels as punishment.”

Kogami chuckles and looks over at him. “And are you Lot’s wife in this narration?”

Makishima shrugs, not taking the bait. “She was a warning. A lesson for people who disobeyed the word of God.”

Kogami watches him for a moment, feeling his jaw work as he tried to figure out what Makishima was getting at with this story. “If Sybil’s the God in this story, where does that put me? How does this all tie in?”

Makishima’s smile softens into something Kogami doesn’t understand. “You’re the angel,—“ Kogami scoffs, “—the one who carries out God’s will.”

“But I didn’t.”

“No,” Makishima says, “No you didn’t.” 

“So then where does that leave us exactly? In your version the angel took Lot’s wife for himself rather than leave her as an omen for others.”

Makishima shrugs again, the smile still playing at his lips. “It means that this is a new story Shinya. That there are no more pre-written endings.” 

“And is that a good thing?”

“It all depends on how you look at it I guess.”

Kogami thinks about that, watching as Makishima snuffs the cigarette out and flicks it off the edge of the balcony. He thinks about what Makishima said, and what happens to Gods’ angels when they rebel against him. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, watching the profile of Makishima’s face, which is far more lovely than it should be, “I guess it is.”

**Author's Note:**

> same au as the last story posted which you can read [here](http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/11157126)
> 
> hmu on [tumblr](http://www.maripoja.tumblr.com)


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